


Slow Hands

by lycanthropic_drunken_loner



Category: Metal Family (Cartoon)
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, Incest, M/M, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycanthropic_drunken_loner/pseuds/lycanthropic_drunken_loner
Summary: Dee and Heavy have a sleepover. Heavy gets curious.
Relationships: Dee (Metal Family)/Heavy (Metal Family)
Kudos: 29





	Slow Hands

**Author's Note:**

> im sleep deprived as hell, read the tags or else. dont like dont read.  
> thank you x50 to my beta for making this make sense and giving me such good notes!

It wasn’t uncommon for Heavy to sneak into his big brother’s room at night for them to watch TV, or play games, or just to talk. Dee was a notoriously bad sleeper, and welcomed the distraction from the attempts. It was always easier for Heavy to fall asleep at his brother’s side, halfway through a movie marathon, slumped against his shoulder or with his head in his lap. Even at twelve and sixteen respectively, both knew the tradition wouldn’t die any time soon, and neither wanted it to, though they’d be hard pressed to admit it other than through shared, half-asleep whispers.  
  


Sometimes Heavy would wake up in his own bed, sometimes he’d wake up on the floor. Other times, rare times, he’d wake before Dee could, still pressed into his side, a reassuring warmth like a weighted blanket, one arm around his waist and the other tucked against his chest. These were treasured and kept close to his heart, a secret he couldn’t share, something just for the two of them. The moments became rarer as they got older, Dee sleeping late and waking early, his older brother gently tucking him back under his own covers sometimes even before dawn broke. But one thing was always constant, as certain as anything could be: Dee never fell asleep before Heavy.  
  


Except tonight.  
  


Dee had been exhausted when Heavy had crawled into bed with him in the first place, TV turned low, lights off, and collapsed over the covers. He hadn’t turned him away though, and they had just laid together, quiet except for the occasional comment about whatever late-night show was droning on in the background. “It’s nice,” Dee had said, voice heavy with drowsiness. “To have you here, you’re warm. Like a heater.” And he’d held him then, on his back with one arm around Heavy and the other on his stomach, his little brother curled up against him, and his breathing had slowed, and his whole body relaxed.   
  


At first, Heavy wasn’t sure if he had _really_ fallen asleep; Dee could trick him, for a quick laugh. He could jump up and scare him, or something else irrational. So he had stayed up for a while, and watched his chest rise and fall in a comforting rhythm. He had watched how his hair, glowing in the shifting television light, fell over his face in long curls and tangles, had watched him move, and tighten his arm, and murmur something incoherent, but never wake.   
  


Despite all this, knowing he was surely sleeping, Heavy couldn’t pull his eyes away. He tells himself it’s just to be sure, but there’s something beautiful about seeing Dee in the low light like this. He so rarely let his mask slip, let his guard down and relax. It was almost alien to Heavy, almost another side to his brother altogether. Like the stolen mornings, but so much rarer. So he watches, and he let his eyes roam and take in the scene like a drowning man in his final moments.  
  


His gaze drifts over Dee’s face, pretty and angular where Heavy’s was round and wide-eyed. Over his chest, down to the sliver of moonlit pale skin from his shirt riding up, an oversized hand-me-down, dark fabric contrasting against the softness of his stomach. Down to the trail of fuzz that dips below his boxers, to the slightest curve of his hips. His shorts ride low, comfortable, and Heavy gets the urge to brush his fingers against the warm patch of skin, so he tilts his body a bit against his brother’s, and he does. It feels soft, almost like velvet, and suddenly he wants to see more. More pale skin, the freckles he knows dust Dee’s thighs just like his arms and cheeks, where the trail goes.  
  


Carefully, he sits up fully and scoots down the bed, eyes locked on his brother’s face for any sign of wakefulness. Heavy kneels between Dee’s legs, moving agonizingly slowly, realizing offhandedly that he’s trembling; if it’s in anticipation or nervousness he can’t be sure. He knows what he’s going to find, he isn’t _stupid_ , but to see it is a brand new thing. Another secret, just for them, something special, rare and beautiful. Maybe Heavy knows somewhere in the back of his head that he’s abusing Dee’s trust like this, that it’s wrong, that it could get him into trouble, but in the soft warmth of the television’s glow and the moonlight nothing feels more safe. Dee doesn’t stir.  
  


Heavy gently hooks his fingers under the waistband of Dee’s boxers, gently tugging them down slowly, careful not to pull too quick, just in case. He watches as each new inch of skin is revealed, relishes in it, his mind getting fuzzy just from the idea of what he’s doing. He’s seen videos, he knows what this is, and he knows it’s not supposed to happen between him and Dee. But he also knows that they’re special, they’ve always been together, have always had their own secrets. Nobody has to know, maybe not even Dee himself, and Heavy watches as the shape of his brother’s cock slips free of the loose fabric.  
  


He rests a small hand against his thigh, against the smattering of freckles he knew would be there, the other hovering, fingers brushing lightly against the head as he glances upwards to check Dee’s face. He’s still sleeping, and Heavy can’t tell if his cheeks are slightly pink or if it’s his imagination. His wishful thinking. Pressing firmer, tracing the shape, it feels so soft. Heavy has never felt anything like it, could never imagine it, and he tries to burn every single detail into his mind. The slight curve of the shaft, the way it starts to harden under his attention, he wants to know every detail, to keep it in his mind forever. For the first time, Heavy wonders with a twisted sort of innocence what Dee’s cock could taste like, what it would feel like.  
  


Heavy, nervous and flustered, presses his lips to it in tiny kisses at first. He loves the way it grows when he rests his fingers on it, Dee now almost hard, he wants to savor it. To draw it out. His face is warm, and heat pools in his stomach in a way that makes him twitch and press his thighs together to try and relieve the feeling. He can’t get enough, it’s hard to go slow when his desire keeps skyrocketing, and tentatively he slips his tongue out and drags it up, slow and firm, full on shaking now. It’s something he can’t explain, it’s something Heavy thinks he loves.  
  


“Mmnn...”

Dee whines low in his throat, moving slightly, breathing still deep and slow. He’s definitely flushed now, needy and erect and tensing ever so slightly, but still barely asleep. Still unaware of what his little brother is doing to him, and of what he’s doing to Heavy in return. Unconsciously pressing his hips up, into the feeling of his tongue on him.  
  


Heavy shivers, letting his hands ghost over Dee’s thighs, lowering his mouth onto his brother’s cock with a low hum rumbling through his chest. He felt delirious, out of control, driven forward by instinct. Every fiber of his being was on fire, screaming _closer, closer, closer,_ and he can’t stop himself. Above him, Dee shifts and props himself up on his elbows, eyes blurry with sleep and face red.  
  


“Heavy? What...” He trails off, voice thick with drowsiness, long fingers digging into the sheets where his brother’s small body had rested not too long before. Black nails shining dully in the light, head slightly cocked and lips parted, hair falling in unruly waves, Dee was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “What are you-”  
  


“Shhh..” Heavy hushes him as he moves back, wrapping his hand around the base of Dee’s cock and giving a slow stroke like he’d seen them do in the videos he’d watched, red hair haloed by the glow of the TV and gaze dark.   
  


“Hevs, we can’t, you don’t know what you’re...” Dee stammers out, biting his lip and moving to rest his other hand on Heavy’s cheek, his little brother leaning into the touch affectionately. God, _his little brother_ .   
  


“This is wrong, F-Fuck, It’s-”  
  


“It isn’t,” Heavy insists, eyes burning. He strokes him again, fingers brushing against the head, twisting his wrist the way he saw the girls do and tearing a half-panicked whine from Dee’s throat. “Please? _Please_ Dee,” The hand on his cheek moves to his hair, and he can see Dee’s resolve melt away, like it always does when Heavy begs for something. It’s in the way his eyes go soft, in the way he presses a fraction closer, in the way he shakes.  
  


He wraps his mouth around his cock again, trying not to break eye contact, feeling the weight of it on his tongue as Heavy takes as much as he can. He’s inexperienced, and it’s sloppy, but the way Dee tilts his head back and tightens his grip a bit makes him feel like he’s doing a decent job, and his chest fills with warmth at the thought that _he’s_ the one making his brother feel this good.  
  


“Fuck,” Dee breathes, almost silent and the words uneven, caught in his throat. “I love you.”  
  


Heavy shivers, digging his nails into his thighs for leverage and pulling back before sinking down again, working his way into a slow rhythm that has Dee unraveling underneath him, whimpering and jerking his hips just the slightest bit but still gentle, hesitant, trying to keep himself under control. Dee cards his fingers through Heavy’s hair like he's something fragile, like one wrong move will make him shatter. Maybe he’s still tired, or maybe he’s in shock, either way Dee’s eyes are half-lidded and hazy and as dark as the ocean.  
  


“ _Heavy_ , fuck,” Dee chokes out. “Keep- Keep going-”

So he does, and he ups his pace a bit, and he tries not to choke on his brother’s cock, and it’s _hard_ but he wants Dee to come undone. Heavy needs to see this side of him he never has before, he wants to know everything there is to know about Dee, he wants to be all that he could ever need. It pricks at his heart, it makes his mind melt with the intensity of it.  
  


It doesn't take much after that, Dee barely able to gasp out a warning before he's coming down Heavy’s throat, his little brother coughing and trying to swallow and pulling off with the smuggest little look on his face. It’s endearing and overwhelming and Dee decides that he isn't going to think about this for longer than he has to. Heavy is moving back to lay with him, face flushed and eyes low, embarrassed. Dee takes him into his arms and holds on like a lifeline.  
  


“I love you, too.” Heavy mumbles drowsily against Dee’s neck. He’s still shaking, gripping the front of his shirt with both hands. “Sorry I couldn’t say it earlier.”  
  


“Yeah, whatever, you’re an idiot.” Dee replies, but there’s no heat to it, and he only holds him closer. He doesn’t know what's going to happen next for them, if they’ll even talk about it at all, but either way it can wait until morning. Heavy is already passing out, going slack against his brother’s chest, breathing slow and even. Dee always envied how easily he could fall asleep, like he didn’t have a worry in the world, but right now he feels the same.   
  


The world fades away from the both of them, and he can’t bring himself to mind.


End file.
